A Storm Approaches
by Bhryn Astairre
Summary: Rianno always knew she was destined for greatness; with two Horde raider parents, it was almost a sure thing. But she wasn't to know how and why it would come to her. As the seasons change, she becomes a full fledged shaman and following the voice of Vol'jin who says a storm is coming, she leaves behind her past, searching for a future in the frozen Northrend shores...
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: A New Dream**

* * *

The dust which hung thickly in the air was almost as bad the wind that cut the cheeks of those huddled together, trying to get some warmth in their bones before heading back out into the sandstorm. For the relief team however, who had quickly ducked into the doorway, it was their sincere happiness, however brief, to be inside. As they broke into smaller groups to talk amongst themselves, four of them went directly to the refreshment pitched tent, nodding to the warekeepers. Two had the height of trolls, one hunched over slightly. The other was huge and hulking, easily a tauren and the third was an orc with armour that was well polished and cared for.

As the bent troll went about, looking for herbs and reagents, the other uncovered their face, taking a deep breath of sweet air. "Oooooh, mon, we been in dat dere weather for a long time. Ah thought ah wa' never gon' breathe air 'gain!"

The tauren, taking the cloth from his snout, just chuckled; a rumbling burr, much like a drowsy bee. "Sasoria, you can be a real pessimist sometimes."

She huffed slightly, grazing her attention across the orc and adding, "Well if dat dere orc knew his foot fro' his mouth we'd ha' been here faster mon. Ah'n never lettin' ya read no map 'gain, Carnage!"

The orc just smiled, still youthful enough to lack serious scars and with enough cheek behind the grin to curb Sasoria's notable anger. "In my defence, we did get here."

"He has a point, Sassie," the male troll said in a very distinctly un-trollish voice. He'd pulled his head covering down to reveal a pale blue skinned face, marking free and with very lovely brown eyes, for a troll that is. His tusks, growing from his upper jawbone, were long and had been carved with delicate symbols and designs.

'Sassie' ripped her headcloth off and threw it at him. Under the head covering she was quite tall for a troll, with distinctly bright pink hair and faintly greenish skin and wild, angry red eyes. "Shut up mon! If ah had ma way... this be your fault!" And so saying, she gripped the handles of her two maces, giving them all a good look at her gritted teeth, showing off her tusks which unlike Lakuta's were hinged from her lower jawbone and stubby. She then whirled around and stalked on towards the forward party, who had their heads bend over tactical plans drawn up by the warlock team leader.

"Oh Lakuta," the tauren chuckled, clapping one of his heavy hands onto the somewhat slender shoulder of the troll, "You picked a real wild woman to be your wife."

Lakuta smiled, "Maybe, I think our eldest takes after her too. I understand what she means though, being so far away from home, especially so soon after... but your wife Heatha is taking good care of them, Arus."

"It's not like she can go anywhere with us right now either," Carnage added quietly; his voice was deep and serious, somewhat in contrast to his mischievous smile. He patted his flat stomach as if to show what he meant, looking up to Arus, "Boy or girl?"

"Does it matter?" Arus grinned.

"Don't have girls, old friend," Lakuta groaned, "They're going to make me an old man before my time."

"If Sasoria doesn't sic her wolves on you before that," Carnage smirked. "She's the angriest shaman I've ever met. I thought you were all supposed to be in tune with nature and love and all that?"

"Well," Lakuta started, then very nearly screamed like a girl when the shout of his angry wife ripped through the crowd, demanding they hurry themselves up instead of stalling around, jabbering like old men at a camp fire.

Arus and Carnage both threw the poor, calm natured shaman looks, mixes of terror and pity, even amusement. But they did gather their things, beginning their walk to the main scouting party that were beginning to look restless. The walls of the entrance were scraped clean with sand, scouring over the years this had stood in the brutal weather of southern Silithus. If one looked closely enough, you could make out the symbols of forgotten cultures and words, drawn in pictures.

"Ahn Qiraj," Carnage murmured, "I wonder what's in here."

"Who knows, but the guild leaders have decided it needs checking out."

"And we go where they point," Carnage murmured, lifting his heavy axe. "Let's go."

* * *

"Rianno, Rianno settle down!" Heatha chuckled, "You're so full of energy, child!"

The child in question was a four year old troll, tall for her age, even given her naturally tall racial leanings. Always on the go, Rianno seemed unable to sit still for ten seconds and her imagination was off in the clouds, dreaming of being an adventurer one day, just like her mother and father. An even split of features between both, Rianno had her mothers energy, temper and pink hair. But her pale blue skin, kindness and compassion was all her father. Right now, however, she was rushing between the door and her younger sister, who had barely begun to crawl, in the playpen.

"I see something, there's crowds!" She piped up.

"Crowds, I see."

"Big crowds!"

"Oh, I wonder what it could be."

Even though she was heavily pregnant with her own child, Heatha stood up and moved to pry Rianno's fingers off the door frame, peering out into the dusty street. Figures were walking towards houses, covered in dust and grime. The guild had come home, members who lived in their sleepy, but content little village going to their families, ready with stories of glory and wealth. But Heatha was wiser and had better eyes than the little troll girl, and despite her condition, quicker and stronger when needed. She pushed Rianno into the room and then went outside, closing the door behind her.

Only one figure walked slowly towards her house and like others, limped, using a crutch to support himself along the way. She knew those features, but when Arus had left, they were not so careworn, nor so lifeless. He looked up, seeing her. She saw the tears.

"Honey, what happened?"

He didn't speak, just crushing her against his chest with a sweep of his arm and then the sobbing began. Heatha had never heard a grown tauren man cry. She never wanted to again.

* * *

"I've got him out," Arus said, holding onto the body of the unconscious Carnage. The orcs armour had been ripped in chunks from the forged steel, dented heavily where the masonry had collapsed atop them mid attack from monsters. "He's breathing, no blood loss. I'll do what I can for him."

Sasoria nodded, pulling at the rocks.

"Sassie, come on!"

"He's here, ah got him," she replied, kicking away the last chunk of rubble to reveal the face and left shoulder of her husband, "Lakuta, sweet'art?"

He opened those brown eyes, too pretty for a troll, to stare up at them both as Arus was handing Carnage body over to the guild priest, Listus, a shaken looking Forsaken covered in dust and one arm bent at an unnatural angle. They shone with wetness, and the free arm scrabbled a little along the dirt towards Sasoria's hand. "Sassie," he said softly. "You're so... beautiful."

"Hold on, old friend, we'll get you out." Arus put his hands on the boulder pinning Lakuta down, but it didn't so much as budge, even when Sasoria added her strength to his. "Ngggh, might need some more guildies for this."

"Don't."

Arus paused, looking down Lakuta. "Don't?"

"Don't? Ah ya crazy mon!?" Sasoria dropped to her knees, "We'll get ya out, this is no the end!"

"I've been a restoration shaman for all my life, my dearest... I know when my time is up." He couldn't even breathe right, the boulder was pressing into his chest and bloody foam was bubbling up on his lips, coating his tusks. "Sassie... you're so beautiful..."

"Ya said it ahready," she wept, trying to push futilely at the boulder, "Ya said it twice."

"Tell Rianno, I love her. Tell Cialis, I love her. Tell them... to be good..." He fixed his eyes on Sasoria, as she took his hand, pressing it against her cheek desperately, "Sassie..."

A cry went up from the guild members as the building rumbled ominously. Litters were picked up and people began hurrying to make their way from the collapsing pathway. Arus stopped and looked up, cracks overhead seeming to shiver and widen. "This isn't good. Sasoria!"

The fiery enhancement shaman slumped by Lakuta, even her pink hair, once so bright, was dulled by the dust and grit from the quakes and crashes. Her hands circled Lakuta's free one, caressing his hand lovingly, pressing it to her face to draw warmth out. "Ya an idiot, Lakuta. Ah always liked that about ya." She smiled sadly down at him, "Mah idiot."

"Sasoria!" Arus tried to grab her, but the guilds tank, Cyrux took a hold of him and dragged him away, a hairs breadth from snatching her up with him, as the ceiling began to fall in. "Sasoria! LAKUTA!"

She leaned down and kissed him, as he whispered softly, "...you're so beautiful..."

"NO!" The tauren screamed, as rubble obstructed the pathway. "NO!"

* * *

Rianno looked up as Arus came over. She liked the way he smelled; a little like preserved flowers and sometimes like how she imagined sunshine would smell. She smiled for him; after all she loved Arus and Heatha like the extended family she didn't have. But he didn't smile back, in fact he looked dreadfully sad, his face drawn and his eyes shadowed by grief. She thought about standing up to be polite, but instead he lowered himself to the dusty floor of the hilltop next to her.

"Rianno, do you like living with us?"

"Yes!" She grinned, tiny tusks showing, "I do!"

"I see." Arus bent his head.

"Mama Heatha told me about Mama and Papa," Rianno frowned a little, "I know I should feel sad, but Mama Heatha said that if I ever felt lonely for them, then I should just sit and listen to the world."

"Did she now?"

"Mmmhmmm!" Rianno laughed, "She said they are in the voices of nature."

"In wood and water, you can hear my sigh; in the winds at noon, I'll pass you by. The ground beneath you is where I sleep, and the fire at night, your warmth I'll keep." Arus tilted his head at her. "Like that?"

"Yes! So, I must be pretty bad, because I can't hear a thing." Rianno lowered her eyes and looked at her bare feet. "So I decided."

"What is that, little one?"

"I'm gonna be a shaman, like Mama and Papa." She turned to look at him, fierce in her childish way.

Arus smiled faintly, clearly amused at her, "I see, I see, a shaman is it? Strong, like your Mama or wise like your Papa?"

"Both! And more!" Rianno jumped up to her feet, "Stronger too! I'm gonna be the best shaman in the world! Then I'll hear Mama and Papa!"

"Oh ho," Arus laughed, "I wish us adults were as resilient as you kids."

"Oh and when I'm old enough, I'm gonna take a new name! Cause I wanna sound cool!" Rianno grinned at him, putting her hands on her hips, "AND Cialis will be soooo jealous!"

"Ria, your sister isn't even one..." Arus started.

"SO jealous! Hahahaha!" She began to run back into the village, then paused and yelled behind her at Arus, "Oh and Mama Heatha told me to tell you to fetch our things from the house!"

* * *

His hand was cold now. It wasn't long to go.

The pain was beyond imagining; she'd never dreamed it would crush them this way, she could only imagine at the strength of will that kept him waiting for her, for the moment they slipped away from the world. She whispered, "Lakuta... ya my wind... my water..."

His reply was faint, "my earth and ... fire..."

She smiled, gripping his hand, "...Lakuta..."

The storms of Silithus howled on.


	2. Chapter 2

**1: Pave the Way**

* * *

"Rianno, sweetheart, you need to eat something."

The fruit that was pushed under her nose was a garish orange-yellow, smelling delightfully citrus and sharp, hitting the back of her throat with an acidic pulse of bitterness. Instead, her stomach churned at the idea of putting fruit or anything else for such a matter into it, so she raised one of her hands and pushed it right back across the table. "Ugh no thanks."

"More for me then," Nazaden shrugged, his large hand closing over the fruit that Heatha had tried stuffing into Rianno's mouth, taking it and deftly peeling the rind off. "I bet once it's peeled though, you'll want some."

"I'm not interested."

"One segment, come on, it won't kill you. That last I checked, oranges were not assassins."

She couldn't even crack a grin, settling instead on deepening the line between her fine eyebrows and glaring down at the wooden cup of water laced with mint leaves. Mint was good for calming panic and stomach upsets, so she had thrown a crushed handful into her cup. It wasn't working very well. Gathered about their small table were just herself, the tauren mother Heatha and Nazaden, her adopted-of-a-sort kin. Like many tauren in the village, Nazaden was already well on his way to becoming a Druid, a route that her sister was also thick-headedly determined about taking despite the decrying that no trolls had even been druidic.

Of this moment, Cialis was currently outside meeting with one of her tutors and with Arus. She shuffled her feet about, knowing exactly why she felt restless about all this. Today was also the day she would hear from the Oracles, to see if the wind spoke her name, calling to her, changing her. It was a great day for her.

"I should go," she sighed.

"Sweetheart," Heatha said in her warm, deep voice, "They will be home soon."

"The wind waits for no man," Rianno huffed.

"But the earth is patient and knows when to wait," Heatha countered with a little smile on her broad, bovine features. "So you must wait, you must be earth."

"Patient? Rianno?" Nazaden snorted, his dark eyes twinkling, "She doesn't know the meaning of the word."

"You don't know the meaning of the word 'diet' either," Rianno snapped back.

"Hohhh," he slapped his belly, "It's all muscle, baby."

"I didn't know muscles wobbled."

"Mine are special muscles."

It was almost impossible to resist any longer and she found a hint of a grin worming its way onto her face, despite the sparks of irritation she felt gnawing away at her gut. She lifted her hands in defeat, leaning as far back in her chair as she could, "The wobbliest most special muscles ever to have wobbled onto Azeroth."

"We can't all be built like an iron rake," he added, licking juice from his fingers.

Rianno grimaced, it was true she wasn't exactly flabby, if anything she had taken a left turn at comfort and trained her body to the absolute peak of health. Between her obsessive herbalism and potion-making, her muscles were hard as rocks. She had a six-pack that Nazaden had no desire to try and achieve and was as fleet on her feet as the other druidic youths that had chosen the path of the feral wild.

Unfortunately, her driven desire to become a shaman and more importantly, independent, had seen off her chances of social grace. She wasn't good at conversations and stalled when it came to tact or social niceties. Heatha assured the teenaged troll that it would come in due time, that no one was born with a silver tongue, but when she looked at her gifted younger sister and how easily she slid through crowds and meetings, was burdened by friends, she couldn't help but wonder if she had somehow missed out on picking up those skills. Where Cialis was kind and friendly, she had cultivated instead strength and inner will. Cialis enjoyed music and festivals, bonfires and parties and gatherings. Rianno liked quiet, questing, training and adventure.

"Give me one then," she indicated, at the chunk of segments still stuck together with remnants of pith, yet to be peeled away into glistening crescents.

"Hey now, you just said-"

"I know what I said, just give me one."

Heatha shook her head with a low bumblebee of a chuckle, standing up and moving to pick up the breakfasting bowls, clearing away for the day. Normally, Rianno would be on her feet, quick to help, but when she indicated she would stand, Heatha's hand pressured her into lowering back onto the sturdy chair made for tauren weights.

A slice of the orange scuttled over the wooden table, landing at the pointy tip of her elbow, and she peered down at it, then across the table at Naz who grinned. "Eat up then, before it tries to run away."

"Hmm," she frowned, it was more a reflex than actual anger, and scooped it up. A moment of checking to see if he'd wiped anything on it, then she popped it between her teeth and chewed, her still tiny tusks grating gently against her upper lip, hinged on the lower jaw instead of the more regular upper jaw that was prominently seen in male members of her race.

"So," Naz began, shyly, "If you pass then..."

"Then I leave, it was going to happen eventually."

"But you're so young."

"What and you're ancient?" Rianno grinned quickly.

"Ancient and flabby, I'm a real catch for those ladies."

"Come on Naz," she said, finally taking note of his subtle change in expression. His large brown eyes were hedged with hurt, the set of his mouth indicating a hint of pain. "You're surely not going to miss having me about the place?"

"Cialis will, more than I will."

"Cialis will be fine, you know that. She has plenty of friends and more importantly, her studies to keep her distracted." Rianno leaned over and plucked another segment free, then toyed with it between her fingers. "She'll cope, I've told her over and over since we were kids that this is what I wanted to do with my life."

"There's a huge difference between saying you're going to do something and then actually doing it. You can't expect her to think everything will be fine, the moment you leave the village and go looking for trouble?"

"Trouble? Hey, you know I do happen to have some talent as a shaman, I'm not completely useless."

Nazaden covered his face, "Gods and Loa combined, you're not quite grasping this concept, you know?"

"No, I get it!" Rianno dropped the segment, staring down at it, "I get it very well."

"Then if you understand then sur-"

"Surely I would reconsider?" She shook her head, pink hair drifting about her shoulders. "No. This is what I decided for myself long ago, this path that our parents walked... I've always wanted it too."

Naz stood up, broad hands on the table and pressing his weight vaguely into them, enough that his bulk felt threatening. "You're foolhardy."

"You're not my father, Naz, you're my friend. Please, you ask for me to understand your concern which I do, but you can't consider my standpoint either. I'm going to leave this village and join a Guild. I'm going to find adventure."

"You'll only find death."

"You don't know that, you're just projecting your fear onto me, stop it!" She stood up in turn, slamming her fists into the table so hard it rocked and pressing forward. She was slighter than he was, but nearly as tall and her temper gave her the edge when it came to presence in the room, pushing against his rising anger. "I won't die."

"You can't say that for sure!"

"Neither can you! What, you want me to die to prove your prediction right?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You might as well have!"

"Now who's the one projecting!?"

"You. You're still doing it! You're impossible to talk to when you start like this-"

"I'm impossible!?"

The door clicked closed, cutting them both off mid-flow. Two heads turned, staring at the intruder into their verbal disagreement. It was Arus, standing a head taller than both of them, eyes wise and heavy with thought. He had borne the years with less grace than many, showing signs in his greying fur and the wrinkles cutting groves under his eyes. Arus wore simple leathers and a loose, sleeveless robe stitched with varying designs of plants, working their way up from the hem to the waist. A sunburst was framed in foliage embroidery on the wide back of the robe.

"Nazaden, sit down. Rianno," he sighed, passing a hand over his eyes, "it's almost time, go and get your things together for the journey."

"I already did, close to the break of dawn," she said with a wry twist to her lips, lending her words an edge of impatience. "I'm pretty excited."

"Excited, yes of course, you must be. The journey up to the Oracle spirit on the bluffs, it is not a journey to be undertaken lightly." Arus plodded across the room, sinking into a spare chair at the table with a world weary sigh, seeming every one of his years and somehow more.

"I know that, come on-"

"Just like your mother," the older tauren smiled, eyes growing even darker with memory, "She was like fire and wind, so impatient to be off, to be doing things. You resemble her more and more each day."

Rianno fidgeted, reaching up and grasping one of her long braids, tugging on it. The shocking pink hair that wasn't tamed into braids wafted in the free fronds that made up her elaborate Mohawk. With her free hand, she reached to the back of the chair she was stood by and lifted up the small haversack, filled with food, water and offerings.

"But," Arus rumbled, "Wind eventually blows out, fire will tire itself and burn to nothing; be careful child, that you are not without balance. I have no doubt that you'll hear the Oracle."

"Dad," Nazaden almost shouted in anguish, "Don't say that! That means-"

"Everyone has their own path they must walk, son. When we meet people, when we must part, they are just crossroads along the way, people we walk with for a time. You cannot walk her path for her nor dictate it, no more than she could for you."

Rianno glanced sidelong at Nazaden, seeing the quivering hands of the younger druid, then squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed. Unrelated by blood, she had grown up in the same household as Nazaden, she could read him like a book by now and all she saw written in that moment was absolute despair.

"I'll be going then."

"Rianno!"

She shook her head, crossing to the door and unhooking her cloak, slinging it over an arm. With her back turned to the room, she sighed, "Just wait, okay? Just wait."

"Ria-"

She opened the door and slid outside, swiftly jamming it shut behind her. Cool air brushed over her face and she sighed, almost with relief. For a moment there, tears had threatened her more than ever.

The village was quietly bustling, people going to and fro from the small market of tradesmen in their unified hut of trade; smiths, jewellers, grocers and huntsmen. Around the pond where the village had also installed a well, children splashed and played, making paper boats and paddling in the waters. Two tauren walked past, fishing rods shoulders and breezily discussing the ways to land the best fish in the small river that snaked by the village.

Further into the heart of the village, she could see the classes in their training, young aspirants for vocations taking notes and attempting to commune with nature. Apprentices that hauled bales of hay, stacks of ore and weeded through herbs. Acolytes in their bulky robes, tripping over words for spells and making mistakes in basic circle designs. Squired apprentices with their shields and swords, chuckling and jostling the trainee huntsmen, tickling the chins of tiny animals that would one day with careful nurturing come to help them in their travels.

Among them, she spotted Cialis, with her faintly green skin and pink hair, laughing and directing plants to twine and bloom, encouraging them with gentle hands that made magic look so easy. Rianno smiled, her stern face creasing with lines that meant love. For a moment, Cialis' eyes met her own; eyes that were not embers and fire, but gentle hearth and home. Then the moment passed, and Rianno broke away, turning her attention to the road and setting herself walking on it.

The small dust road wound to the outside of the village by care of the graveyard, a fenced in area where grave markers were hung with offerings and mementos of those long since passed into nature and Loa, and beyond; it was here that the two markers for her parents were, side by side. Arus had told her that they had never recovered the bodies of the two shaman, crushed under the falling masonry of a raid long since forgotten about.

There had been stories as she was growing up, she mused as her steps carried her from the village into the fields, towards the threatening bluffs that hemmed in around Mulgore, making it practically invulnerable to attack. Stories of her father, who had come to learn the ways of medicine making from trolls with his father, that he didn't have the typical accent that all trolls seem to have, from being brought up speaking their native tongue. Because his father had been a wandering orc, and Lakuta was orphaned without memory of his place in the world, he had never learned the native tongue enough to give himself an accent.

Lakuta, who had eventually decided to join the efforts of the Guilds, became a sought after healer, famed for his skill with herbs within the halls of the Guilds. It was there that he had met her mother, Sasoria. Sassie, as he had always nicknamed her.

Sasoria of the Sand, Sasoria the Fireheart, Sassie the wife and mother. Wild, hot tempered and headstrong; everything she did, she did with a unique drive and passion. To Sasoria, as Arus had told it, there was no middle ground. You either did something, or you didn't, and if you did do it, you did it as though no tomorrow were to come.

A love like theirs, Arus said, was a love that came only once. Just once.

Once was enough, to bring two wonderful daughters into the world. Once was enough, to help the Guilds fight into the depths of Silithus. Once to change the world, to love so deeply that there can be no return.

There was no return either, for in the crush of falling stone only her father had been trapped, clinging to a life that sought to leave him. However, for Sasoria, there was only her husband, the man she loved and fought with, worshipped and ordered around... for her mother, there was only love, a love she could only have once. She had chosen there and then to die alongside him.

As a child, there had been moments where Rianno felt bitter about it. How her mother had robbed Cialis of having just one parent figure in her life. How she had chosen so selfishly, thought only of herself when she knew that two small children waited back home, with tears they didn't know how to shed properly yet. She resented the love that had taken away a mother. She cursed the stupid expedition that had destroyed two lives, a family, a dream and a love. She didn't know better.

Rianno stopped, sighing. She turned, looking back at the village and the small sprawl of houses, smoke rising in the distance. It was so small now, fading into nothing on the horizon.

"Once," she said quietly, "Just once, that would be enough."

With a last whisper for the Loa, she returned to walking, beginning the slow and arduous climb into the bluffs.

* * *

_Dark stars above, ground below_

_Where might the west wind blow?_

_Your sunday best, black on black_

_I cannot bring you back._

_What winter comes, burning bright_

_Take my soul into the night._

_Bound to you, I can see_

_A storm that crashes into me._


	3. Chapter 3

**2: By Any Other Name**

* * *

She had been climbing for what felt like hours, rocks giving way to pebbles and dirt the higher that she clambered up, flitting between toeholds in cracks and stretching to pull herself, heaving with air that burned her chest, over the hanging ledges of flattened rock. Every time she dragged herself over these lips of rock she would lie, basking in the sunshine and gasping for air, waiting for the hammering of her anxious heart to calm, staring with wide eyes into the sky.

The pathway up to the higher reaches of the bluffs was one not often used or cared for it appeared, with the village shamans preferring to communicate with the spirits in a newer fashion. But Rianno liked the old way, she liked the challenge of going into the world and seeing for herself all the forces at work.

Eventually she came to a plateau that creased into the mountainside far back, with pillars purposefully put along the way to the Oracle, which appeared to simply be a fire, set to burn the middle of a small ring of stones.

Placing her pack down, she cast a look around warily, "Hello?"

Maybe this was also some kind of strange test, as no one saw fit to answer her call. Frowning, Rianno sat down and tucked her legs underneath her, resting her elbows on her knees and glaring over the flames and around the cleared plateau that was painfully quiet but for herself.

Hours passed and there was nothing but the quiet to greet her, echoing back from the calls of eagles high overhead as the day wore into the afternoon. She alternated between sitting and standing, pacing around the fire and chewing on one of her nails in distress. Perhaps the Oracle wasn't ready to give her the chance to spread her wings. Perhaps it had already known she would come and the silence was her answer. The hours continued to roll along, the sun slowly sinking across the sky and to the horizon, painting everything russet and orange.

Rianno stood with her back to the small fire, hands on her hips and for a moment she put aside her frustration with the testing. Sunset had always held a special kind of magic for her, as much as a dawn did. There was a moment when the whole of Azeroth seemed to stand still, stopping to admire the sky and in turn, the stars and sun gazing down back at the land with mutual love. There was peace, warm and deep as an ocean, rolling over the world for that one moment she could only seem to find at those times of the day and as it spread its net over her that evening, her eyes drifted closed and she felt the smile welling up deep inside her, not just sitting on her lips.

Peace.

Squatting down, she settled onto her haunches and began poking at the fire, the spell cast flames flickering at the air on which is appeared to sustain itself. This was nothing. She would wait, she could stay for days and see that peace again from high up and wonder. It would be almost a distinct pleasure, to be so far removed from hustle and bustle that she could centre herself and languish in deep enjoyment of that solitude.

As the hours slid along and she sipped only water, keeping her fast, her eyes began to grow heavy with sleep and soon she was resting her head on drawn up knees, staring into the fire with a drowsy kind of contentment.

"Ah, I see you're still here."

Rianno started awake, surprised to see an elderly tauren sitting across from her at the fire, his fur white and wrinkles visible where the fur was patchy with age. He was adorned in many beautiful trinkets and cloth woven with care, draped to protect from the night chill of the Mulgore Bluffs. A staff, also carved with symbols and sigils and topped with a spray of crystals in varying colours, was laid next to him, the chunks of rough gemstone glittering in the firelight.

She composed herself as quickly as she could, "Uh, oh I mean. Ahem. Where did you come from, Sage One?"

"I am as the wind, I came to listen to the world and saw you. I suppose you're waiting to speak with the Oracle, little one?"

She didn't bristle at being called little, after all in comparison to what was probably a great and heavy age, he was her superior in height and bulk, hinting at an impressive stature in youth. No doubt he had been a great hero of the Horde. She shuffled her feet and swallowed nerves, hero as he might be, he was still the stealthiest person she'd met for all that ageing muscle gone to fat.

"Yes," Rianno said, "It's my time for the testing. If I pass, I'm going to go out into the world."

"The world eh, I wonder how it has changed, it seems like so long ago I started up to this spot too."

She smiled, "It's noisy, unruly and filled with danger and death. But there's moment where you can look past it all, you get to see real beauty. There's compassion and love, bravery and all kinds of wonder in the world. I don't think it's changed much in that regard, just harder to see."

"Hmm, and they say the Lich King has returned."

"They do."

"You know, you missed you chance at glory in the Outland, the ancestral home of our allies, the orcs. The Lich King lives in a distant land, not so distant as the Outland, but still treacherous. It is filled with despair, such terrible despair and unforgivable crimes." The elder shook his head, mane clinking as ornaments bounced back and forth.

"I'm not afraid," she asserted.

"To be young again. Tell me though, what do you truly know of fear? What can one as young as you know of the harsh realities of this world? I see in your eyes you have known loss, but it was softened by love, gentled by those who cared deeply for you and those you in turn care for. What can you comprehend of the ways of this world, cruel as they are? Do not be so hasty to lose yourself to it, it will swallow you up in a snap!" The fingers of the old tauren made such a whip crack as they clicked that she jumped, hand snatching up to her chest to try and calm her suddenly racing heart. "Youth, so quick to run before you walk. So eager to die for a cause, that you never question the roots of the tree you shade under."

"My mother and father were both raiders," Rianno clenched her hand in the clothes of her loose fitting tunic-shirt, her necklace with the carved beads that Cialis had made for her clattering together quietly. "Despite the dangers, they believed there was something to put their lives on the line for. I believe that too, I believe in protecting those who cannot protect themselves, by being there on the front lines, by being that line of defence in the way of danger. It's not great or noble, it's a horrible and bloody affair but..."

As she paused, eyes filling with a suspicious moisture, the idea of her younger sister and Nazaden floated around in her head. Of the war that the Scourge of the Lich King threatened to bring down across the lands, the first hints of a horrible winter already bleaching the land. They would die, her foster parents, her friends who sought a peaceful life... all of that life would vanish in a moment. She was talented, she knew that much and she also knew she was strong.

Arus had told her that strength without a true cause, was a strength abused. Strength that punished, that created misery. But a strength to protect those she loved, that was a strength that Rianno knew she held.

"It's a really awful thing, when you think about what you're saying," Rianno lowered her eyes from the tauren, looking into the flames, "I'm talking about being willing to die in the place of another person. I'm talking about war and death and all the horrible after effects that war brings. But I think I would be more of a coward if I didn't stand up and say that I will fight, so those I love don't have to. I will fight so my sister may grow up in peace."

"And when you die, will she not grieve you, seeking to blame those who killed you?"

"No, I taught her better, our parents did. Revenge is a sword with two edges. One edge cuts those you have a grievance with, but the other blade of vengeance cuts you deep, wounding you, leaving scars."

"Then what?"

"Forgiveness."

"You are very kind hearted, especially for one of the Darkspear. I sense much of your father in you." The tauren smiled.

Rianno laughed, she couldn't help herself, "Ah but people tell me that I have my mother's temper!"

"Tell me their names."

"Lakuta and Sasoria, both shaman."

"Shaman is what you want to become too, am I right? After all, you are up by the Oracle, waiting in this chill wind for a sign." He tilted his head, old eyes briefly catching the firelight, looking careworn. "Lakuta, I remember him. I remember his childhood, he and his father passed through our village a few times before they chose to settle here, his father a local herbalist minister. After his father became too old to travel, Lakuta decided to leave the village and go looking for new herbs and medicines. I know it was during these travels that he joined a Guild."

"I am probably going to do the same thing," Rianno smiled fondly at the fire, eyes shimmering with tears, "I also took up herbalism like my father, grinding the little plants up and concocting potions and elixirs, maybe discovering new and impressive combinations. Who knows. It's more than that, potions help people, help the sick and the needy. And I'd even do it for free, because why not. Herbs are given freely and it's not too much hassle to go pick a couple."

"Altruistic, aren't you?"

"Another strange thing for a Darkspear troll like me to be?" She sighed, "I guess."

"Just be careful that you don't mistake your kindness and compassion, take care that you do not diminish yourself in giving to others. It is possible, entirely too possible, to take away everything that you are and then be left with absolutely nothing at the end of it."

"If that is what it takes," Rianno glared up briefly from the fire, huddling closer to the heat instinctively as the cold drew in closer.

"Sasoria I know a little of, but less than you perhaps. I know she settled in the village between Guild jobs and when you were born, they had you blessed by the spirits. Your sister, she hadn't reached her first year so she wasn't blessed by the … Loa you call them I believe?"

"Loa, spirits, light, ghosts, gods... they're all the same. By any other name you might call them, they all do pretty much the same thing. They listen, they watch and they judge us. But you're right about Cialis, because our parents died in Silithus they never took her to the main encampment to be blessed by the shamans. Cialis instead, her eyes see stars and moons. She is up there," Rianno pointed a finger up the sky, smiling a little lazily, "She wants to be the first troll druid. She's a stubborn girl. She gets that from our mother."

"But not you, you do not have that streak of stubbornness."

"An oak breaks, a willow bends. Water flows, air dances and fire flees... I think there's everything in me but earth."

"I think you're wrong."

"Am I?"

"Earth sustains, it protects and grows, it shelters and is a stable surface for others to walk upon. It is patience and wisdom, it is understanding."

"Patience, right, because I have so much of that to spare."

The tauren chuckled, reaching into his pack and pulling out a blanket, a little ragged but still very much serviceable. With a groan reserved for aching muscles and joints, he hauled himself to his feet and circled the fire to stand behind the curled up troll and then settled it carefully over her shoulders, tucking it about her with all the care and tenderness she had grown to know tauren for, despite their hulking size and ham-fisted looking hands.

"Thank you," she said, looking surprised, "You didn't have to, aren't you cold?"

"No, little one, I like my brethren are better suited to the colder nights that one who cannot grow fur to keep their skin from chilling." He circled back around and then leaned down, picking up his staff with nimble fingers. "I have one question more."

"Of course, ask."

"What is love?"

"Love..." Rianno sighed, "Love is something I never want, but it's there and it's cruel. I love my sister, but I'm afraid I'm just a disappointment to her, a sister who can't connect with her emotionally. I love my family, but they're not my blood relations, so how long until they grow to despise me, what if they've never really loved me? Love of a heart that beats for your song, that love..." she closed her hands tightly on the blanket, snapping, "That kind of love is a poison. I won't drink from that cup. Not ever. Love is disappointment."

"I see. Then, good night."

"Good … good nigh...t..." she yawned, then pitched to the side. She didn't feel the crunch of the dirt, instead if felt like air cushioned her all the way down, weaving dizzy thoughts through her brain like a delicious fog, taking her far away, cutting her into pieces like a jigsaw and then putting her back together in a way she had never known to be put before. She was made of new angles and dimensions, she had new colours and a sense of deep sadness, cutting through it that chased her mind through the whirl of sensations and into darkness.

* * *

"Hey, hey wake up... HEY Rianno wake up before y-"

Her head hit the bowl of oatmeal and she came up swearing, one hand coming to the side of her face to both wipe off the gruel and to nurture the line of bruising from the lip of the bowl. "Oh good f-" her eyes quickly found Heatha staring at her alongside her younger sister Cialis and Naz, "Frrrreaking Loa..."

"Smooth," Naz grinned as he spooned more oatmeal into his mouth.

"Really, Rianno, you swear like a soldier in the Orgrimmar army." Cialis shook her head, delicate features tinged with resignation. Her little sister was pretty, for a troll. She'd often been told so by those who weren't of the Darkspear tribe, there was even a captured human they had seen once who had called her a little flower among wild thorns. They had the same bright pink hair tone, but their skin colour was a little more varied. Rianno's was blue, like their father but Cialis had the greenish tone of their mother. That was about where the comparison ended, in their hair colour. The sisters were like night and day and often argued.

Heatha stood and began collecting the food bowls. Seeing their foster mother start moving towards her, she shovelled what she could into her mouth before it was whisked away. When it came to breakfast in their household, it was a quick affair as the day waited for no tauren or troll. Gulping down her last mouthful of oatmeal that had been flavoured with mugwort, she also stood up to help (or more likely hinder) the tauren matron, also snatching a towel from the stove where it rested against the brick oven door, warming. She scrubbed at the side of her face and her hair, muttering to herself.

"Urgh today is going to be so booooring," Cialis groaned, flopping back in her chair. "Why can't I be in a more advanced class?"

"Because you still can't stop yourself from playing silly pranks."

"It wasn't a prank, it just happened to be funny. It was a coincidence, a marvellous one. The whole universe stopped and decided that it was going to be truly amazing."

Nazaden laughed good naturedly, "Then what about when you set fire for the hay bales with a mistimed Sunfire cast?"

"I sneezed, I have hay fever."

"You, hay fever, as a druid?"

"It comes and goes."

Rianno grinned, "Like her ability to listen. Selective hearing."

Cialis stuck her tongue at her elder sister, making her laugh. Most of the oatmeal was out by now, just as there was a knock at their door and she was putting the towel down. Being the closest to the door and on her feet, Heatha shuffled across the way to answer it. "Yes, yes," the matron said, her voice a comforting burr, "I'm coming."

"You ever going to get a boyfriend, sis?"

Naz glanced from Cialis to Rianno, his gaze also as expectant as the younger trolls one. "What? Boyfriend, me? No, never happen."

"Never?" Naz frowned, "It'll happen."

"No, never. Love's a crutch."

"Oh no," Cialis mocked, clutching onto Naz's shoulder, "Quick, the wounded hero Rianno is a bleeding heart, she'll never love, she's made of ice!"

"Hang on a minute-" Rianno huffed.

"I'm sure you'll meet someone one day," Naz chuckled, pushing at Cialis with one massive hand, his palm pushed against her protesting face and laughter, "Someone who thinks you're exceptional."

"Exceptionally bad tempered and hair triggered, you mean!" Cialis scoffed, voice muted by the taurens palm.

"Exactly, she's right, no one's stupid enough to want to be my boyfriend. Or my friend," Rianno sighed.

A chill was spreading into the room, and she clutched at her arms, wearing the traditionally sleeveless tunic shirt that most villagers wore in the heat of the summer, surprised to find goose flesh risen there. Her eyes snapped to the door, where it was open with tendrils of fog snaking their way in. Heatha turned slowly to the room, her lips dribbling blood and a large wound in her stomach, "It's for you," she said, collapsing to her knees, then landing face down on the floorboards.

"Heatha!" She cried out, but she seemed to be the only one moving to the fallen body as a tall figure, clad in heavy dark iron armour stomped into the room, past her as she cradled the corpse in her shaking hands. She wasn't a proper healer yet, or anything, she couldn't barely mend together a stitch or heal a burn from the oven.

The blood was absolutely everywhere, sticking to her knees and legs, puddling under her and it didn't seem to stop. Behind her, she listened to them as they continued talking in the chairs, as if this total disaster wasn't happening. Were they mad?

"You're just too scared to put yourself out there, you're so scared someone might find you attractive enough to like or to hang around with. You need to start being a little more assertive, Rianno." Cialias yawned, finally pushing free of Nazaden's hand, "You're my sister, I don't get why you're not as popular as I am."

"Nazaden, help me." She begged. He was a better healer than she was, she didn't even have her herbalism bag, there would surely be something in there if nothing else. "Naz, please."

"_This world will bow to me, it will know fear and pain. I will take everything that you have ever loved and destroy it, just as I will destroy you." _The figure swathed in the heavy armour was still circling the room with slow and deliberate footsteps.

"My bag, fetch my bag, I can... there's bandages or something. There's something. Please, please hurry."

"Alright alright, you get so upset about the silliest things," Naz stood up and as he was making his way to the stairs, the figure in the armour intercepted him. It was as thought Nazaden couldn't see him or the sword that plunged through his chest, as easily as a hot knife into a block of butter. It made a curious little crackling sound as it was removed. "Rianno," he sighed, then just fell backwards, hitting the floor. The blood from his wound spattered along the floor, flicking droplets over the table legs.

"_Death is a moment, I can bring them back to serve me, they will be my pets, my stewards of hatred. They are specks of dirt on a desert, for I am the one who rules over death. I am death. I will never stop, I know no mercy. Mercy is for the weak, the useless."_

She stared at Nazaden's body in horror, her brain unable to completely process what was going on. Why was he dead? Why wasn't Cialis running and screaming? Why was this happening and what was this monster doing, talking to her like she would understand him? Pushing her hair back from her face, she felt the streak of blood run into her scalp and then dribble down her face, blood from Heatha's wound that had stopped pulsing. The heart was silent.

"You know, sometimes you have to do things you don't like," Cialis' voice was a lecturing one, as though trying to make her see a point. "Life isn't all rainbows and ponies."

"Cialis, please, come here..."

The dark intruder had come to stand by Cialis and one hand took the thin arm of her smaller and slender sibling, hauling her to her feet. If Cialis had noticed this, she didn't mention it, looking down at her well kept nails with disinterest, a habit she did whenever she was attempting to look as though something bored her when it mattered a lot to her.

Rianno swallowed and tried again, reaching out to her from where she was knelt, "Sis, come to me, right now."

"Sometimes you have to be able to let go."

"_Can you do it, little girl, can you reach a level of anger where you are willing to fight me? Can you even fight me, as you are, weak and pathetic? Find me, bring all your hate and pain and I will destroy you, I will break you. I will make you one of my flock."_

He was raising that strange looking sword in his other hand. She felt frozen to the spot but screamed anyway, hands out still, "Cialis no, come here! I love you!"

Cialis' eyes met hers, "Sometimes you have to be broken to start anew."

"No!"

The blade sliced across the neck swiftly, separating the head from shoulders. It span briefly, spraying a fan of blood across Rianno's horrified face, then bounced along the floor, coming to rest with the back of the pink haired head to her. The body in the arms of the dark intuder began to sag, blood pouring out of the horrendous wound and he let it go, allowing it to hit the wooden floor with a dreadful, empty bang.

"C...Cialis... no..." She scrabbled forward along the floor, grabbing the head and cradling it to her chest irrationally. It still felt warm. "No."

"_I await you, in the North. Come and find me, shaman."_

* * *

The hand that shook her awake was strong, and blinking blearily she could make out the face of a middle aged orc against the brightness of the sky, making her pained and reddened eyes stab with a thousand daggers of agony. Groaning she went to try and hug her sisters head closer to her, then paused. It was the strangest head she'd ever felt.

Sitting upright quickly, promptly banging the top of her skull against the chin of the orc to his displeasure and cursing, she pulled the small bag she'd been clutching from her middle away, staring down at it in confusion. Hands scrabbled along her skin, looking for bloody stains, then she got to wobbly feet, dizzy and feeling sick, unable to see her house or even traces of the ruin that had been visited on her family and home by the stranger in the dark armour. His voice, chilling and echoing rang in her ears still, taunting her.

"Spirits, you're trying to kill me I swear," spat the orc.

"I... I'm sorry, where... am I?"

"Huh?"

"Here, where is here," she muttered. "This place, where I am right now?"

"You're in the Barrens, this is my small farm," he gestured back at it, then at where she'd found herself, slumped by his well, "And you were unconscious on my land."

"Was I covered in blood?"

"Blood?"

"The sticky red stuff inside you."

He gave her a long suffering look, "I'm not stupid. You don't have a scratch on you. All I did was take the blanket off you so you don't bake in the heat out here." He waved the blanket at her, still in good condition if a little frayed at the edge.

"That blanket," she blinked, taking it in her hands and dropping her pack so it clinked. "I was on the Bluffs... I don't..."

"Hm, you're an odd one for a Darkspear. Where's your accent girl?"

"I was raised in Mulgore," she murmured absently, turning the blanket over and over in her hands. "I was doing my Oracle visit, and somehow... I'm here."

"The Oracle huh, I had a friend who told me about that once. Dangerous but vital stuff, gives you incentive and visions, and sometimes the spirit-walk can land you in places you don't know, places you might not realise you need to be."

"And I somehow need to be here?" Her look was frankly disbelieving. The Orc was about an inch or two shorter than she was, but still in fighting condition despite his slacks. His hair was iron grey and he had the beginnings of a very impressive beard that looked in dire need of cutting before it became straggly. His eyes were hard though, eyes that had seen too much and known too much. "On a farm."

"Maybe you did. No one comes out here these days, not since I left the Guild-"

"You were in a Guild?" She almost grabbed him by the lapels on his shirt, "A raider?"

"I was, I quit a long time ago, after a raid went bad down in Silithus."

"...what did you say?"

"Silithus," he pried her away from him, "I was in a Guild that was trying to get into Ahn Qiraj, but there was an accident-"

"-The masonry fell on part of the raid," she finished, "I know that story."

He stopped, staring at her more closely. She didn't shrink under that scrutiny, if anything, she squared her shoulders and stared right back as proudly as she could manage for someone who had been found unconscious and babbling. "Two shamans who were my friends died that day."

"Lakuta and Sasoria," she swallowed.

He passed a hand over his eyes, "Unbelievable."

"You did just say that spirit-walks put you in places you need to be. Maybe its meant to happen." She nearly laughed, "What's your name?"

"Soulcarnage was the soldier name I'd taken, but I prefer just Soul these days. I guess I'd better go get dressed and grab some things." He turned his back to her, "I'll take you back to Mulgore."

"No, I want to join a Guild. I'm going to join one."

Soul paused, then nodded, "Aye alright, but Mulgore first. You can say goodbye to... I suppose Arus and Heatha, aye – and that wee bairn Sasoria was talking about endlessly. You should say goodbye to them. If you're going to join a Guild, I'll come with you and keep an eye on you. Maybe that's why you were placed here, at this time."

"Maybe," she followed him to the door, to wait in some shade as he began to sort through his larder, picking out perishables and canteens to fill with water. "Thank you."

"Hrm," he grunted, then said, "So what do I call you?"

"_How far are you willing to sink to save those you love?"_

She smiled, "Depravity."


End file.
